


Baristas and Authors

by bottombeeb



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombeeb/pseuds/bottombeeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael meets a girl at the coffee shop he works at and she piques his interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baristas and Authors

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Rage Happy Secret Santa 2013 event.

As the sun rose, hungover college students and tired hipsters alike awoke from their sleep and started their morning search for their much-needed caffeine. They wandered like zombies in their persistent quest for energy until they found the fruit of their search, invading any cafe they could find in need of their Strawberry Frappiccinos and their Iced Mochas. They attacked the counter with cool indifference or needy addiction and the victims of their orders worked their best to quell the need rising inside of these so-called zombies. And so another day at the Coffee & Creme cafe began.  
Four years. For four years Michael Jones had worked at that goddamn coffee shop on the corner of Chestnut and Wilkins. Not that he didn’t enjoy working there, it was one of his favorite places in the world, but he sometimes felt like something wasn’t there. When he took a moment to ponder it, he blamed it on the multitude of video games he played as a child, and even now. They made life so grand, what with the extravagant worlds, the heroic characters, the dynamic events, and just the excitement they brought to life. In reality however, it did not take Michael long to realize that life was rather plain. The wide scope of life boiled down to the simplicity of memorizing coffee recipes and names. But it was those small moments that made Michael happy. As much as he yelled at the customers, or griped about the complex names for the drinks, that small coffee place on the corner of Chestnut and Wilkins  
———  
Michael was having a horrible day. Even that word couldn’t suffice to tell what a shitty day he was having. It was one of those days that just feels wrong and amplifies every little problem in your head. Maybe it was just due to the fact that it was 2 PM on a Saturday and Michael was stuck at work. Ray, his only coworker he actually got along with had greeted him upon his arrival but had, no doubt, made a mental note to avoid the red-headed boy who seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He’d spent the morning glaring at those who made eye contact, shoving those who got to close, and purposely spelling a customers name wrong on their cup more than a few times.   
It was a quiet afternoon at the coffee shop, as it always was any time after the morning caffeine rush, and there were only a few customers in the little cafe. Michael sat on the counter like his boss, Geoff, constantly told him not to, as he played some shitty game said man had told him about on his phone when he heard the door swing open. With a barely suppressed groan, he shoved the phone in his pocket (not that the fucking game made any sense anyway) and hopped down from the counter. Thankfully, however, Ray waved him off, saying he had this and Michael tried to make himself look busy organizing random shit.  
He looked over his handful of random syrups to the girl at the counter, currently ordering from the other boy and paused a moment. She had dyed red hair with bangs that framed her face nicely and was wearing a plain v neck sweatshirt, but Michael thought she looked extremely good in something so simple. He could somewhat hear her voice and it matched her smile in a way that Michael, for some reason, loved. She handed over her money to Ray and Michael tried to resume organizing or restocking or whatever the hell he was doing as to not get caught staring. His coworker came over to make the girls drink and Michael snuck another glance in her direction. She seemed to be around Michaels age, and she was carrying a laptop bag with her, but no textbooks. College student? Just graduated? It didn’t really matter, it’s not like Michael cared that much. I mean, a million girls come into the shop every day, many of them much more attractive than this hair-dyed college girl, and none of them really mattered to Michael. Not even when they flirted with their blonde hair or their hipster glasses or whatever. Michael didn’t have time for stupidity like that.  
Ray finished up making the drink, a fairly simple one apparently, and handed it over to the girl, who smiled and headed over to a nearby table. She pulled out her laptop and within minutes was typing away at her laptop in concentration. Michael leaned over to Ray slightly, and tried to look indifferent as he spoke.  
"What was her name?" he asked with a nonchalant nod in her direction.  
Ray looked up at him in surprise; Michael hadn’t gone out of his way to speak to anyone today. Once the shock of the non-menacing voice wore off, Ray looked over in the direction of Michaels gesture and raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Her? Laptop girl? Ummm, Lindsay" Ray replied cautiously, "Why?"  
Michael just shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket again, signaling to his friend that he was done with this conversation for now.  
"No reason…" he mumbled, not sure himself why he even wanted her name.  
It’s not like he cared, its not like she really mattered that much, and maybe it was insignificant, but Michael remained in a calm mood for the rest of the day until that girl left. But it had not be a coincidence; he didn’t really think about the girl with the red hair and the grey sweatshirt. He didn’t care about with the perfect name, and the cute smile. Not at all.  
————  
It wasn’t until thursday that Michael saw Lindsay again. He had an afternoon shift that day and was unpacking a new shipment of cups when he heard the door open and saw an attractive blonde girl make her way into the shop. He moved to the counter and smiled when she approached. She happily ordered a latte and was practically bouncing in her shoes, a bit overexcited for a mere cup of coffee if you ask Michael. Nevertheless, asked her name and scrawled ‘Barbara’ in messy handwriting on the side as he began making her drink. He heard the door swing open again as he finished up preparing the drink and he turned back, handing it to the girl.  
"Thanks a latte!" she said with a smile and then proceeded to break out into laughter.  
Michael simply raised an eyebrow at the girl in front of him, laughing at her own bad pun.  
"God dammit Barb!" a voice said off to the side and it was then that Michael was alerted to the presence of the other customer who had entered the shop.  
His eyes followed the voice and he froze for half a second. It was that red-headed girl, Lindsay, and she was standing at the counter, shaking her head but smiling at the blonde who was apparently her friend. Michael wished he could say that in the few days since he had first seen her, she hadn’t crossed his mind, but then he would be lying. He often found himself wishing she would come back into the shop and cursing his past self for not talking to her. It was pointless, really, but he couldn’t help it. And now there she was, standing at the counter, and looking at the menu above Michaels head. Her eyes flicked down to him to order and he instantly snapped out of his thoughts and waited for her to speak.  
"Yo, can I get a medium hot chocolate?" she asked with a smile "but can you jazz it up with some peppermint or something."  
Michael nodded, typing in her order and talking out loud.  
"One grande hot chocolate jazzed up with peppermint, got it." he smiled and she laughed slightly, a sound Michael most definitely wanted to hear again, "That’ll be $2.50, can I get your name?"  
Looking expectantly at the girl, Michael stood, sharpie poised over the cup, ready to write her name. Of course he already knew it, but only by what Ray had told him, and that guy wasn’t always the most trust-worthy. Michael wouldn’t have put it past him to have lied just to fuck with him about the girl.  
"Lindsay" she said truthfully, and Michael took ‘kill Ray’ off of his list of ‘things to do today’ as he scribbled her name down.  
"I’ll have your drink in a minute, Lindsay" he liked the way her name felt on his lips as he started preparing her drink "I’m Michael, by the way"  
"Nice to meet you Mr. Michael" he liked the way his name sounded on her even better.  
Michael started on her drink immediately, with only a few obscene curses on his part. He excused himself every time a vulgar word left his mouth, but always proceeded to spew off one even worse a few seconds later. If she didn’t like his cursing she could fucking leave. It wasn’t his fault that the chocolate mix was so hard to find or that the container of peppermint syrup was broken and it took Michael damn near 10 minutes to get anything out of it. She watched him the whole time, chuckling every time he cursed or got too aggravated over heating the milk or finding the whipped cream. He finally handed over the cup, attitude a bit more sour than when he had first seen her today, but her smile and quick thanks was enough to lighten it slightly once again.  
"Well, I’ll see you around, Michael!" she said with a smile and her friend, who had spent the last few minutes poking around the random coffee beans for sale, mimicked her sentiment with a bit less emotion.  
Ahh, they’re leaving Michael thought with an inward frown, just now noticing that neither of them were carrying laptops or book bags or anything that would indicated their need to stay so he smiled at them and gave a quick wave.  
"See ya later, ladies" and with one last smile in Michael’s direction, she turned away and walked out of the shop with her friend.  
Michael had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last he would be seeing of the red-haired girl.  
——-  
Michael hadn’t mentioned the encounter to Ray or anyone else for that matter fear of a mocking from his friends. He most definitely did not mention it to Ray. If he had, he never would’ve heard the end of it. He had only seen Lindsay once since their short conversation on thursday. She had come into the shop again on Saturday and Michael had made her her drink, the same hot chocolate with peppermint as before, and then sat down at a table with her laptop. She had taken it out and had begun typing at it, too engrossed in her work to notice Michael watching her until a new customer came in. The day went by slow and she stayed the whole day, much to Michael’s surprise.  
For some reason, throughout the day, Michael felt unusually happy. He didn’t yell too much when some blonde girl had changed her order after Michael was almost finished preparing it, and he didn’t curse too loudly when he dropped a new container of milk and spilled it everywhere. The only difference between that specific Saturday and all other days which found Michael in a content mood, was the girl typing away at her laptop in the corner. The girl who looked up only when she heard Michael’s rage rise and did so with a smile on her face, sometimes even a giggle before she returned to her work eagerly. Michael would pretend to not notice but would for some reason yell abnormally loud the next time something went wrong, making sure his voiced reached everyones ears.  
Her fingers tapped away happily away on the keyboard and after an hour or two a seed of thought was planted in his mind and thousands of ideas started to swirl in his mind. He wanted to know what she wrote about so devoutly. But, alas, whatever god of luck which had brought the girl into Michael’s presence must have been off duty for the day and she left before the boy had a chance to talk to her again.  
——-  
Michael wore beanies far too much. He realized this fact but consciously chose to ignore it. Not only ignore it, however, but completely fight against it by wearing beanies practically every fucking day of his life. They were easy and simple and allowed Michael to not have to worry about his curly hair if only for a day. He never put too much thought into it, just grabbed one every day no matter the weather and jammed it on his head. Never, that is, until Lindsay.  
He would never admit it to himself, of course, but he actually cared what she thought of him. It was stupid and trivial and a million other adjectives that Michael didn’t want to associate himself with, but he couldn’t help it. Gradually he found himself caring more and more about what he wore. Was this shirt too dirty? Did these pants fit? He couldn’t really go out with his hair looking like that!  
Ray, being the super mega awesome friend he was, noticed Michael’s newfound interest in looks and brought it up to him while the two of them and their buddy Gavin were playing Halo one night at Ray’s apartment. The conversation had opened with a joking “dude, you’re not turning gay on us, are you?” and eventually lead into Michael somehow confiding in his friends the events that had transpired thus far between him and the girl who sat so peacefully in their coffee shop. Michael had almost thought for a minute that his friends might actually have something useful to say but as soon as said persons opened their mouthes, the fantasy gave way to reality.  
Gavin, as usual, didn’t have anything helpful to add and only managed to say something meant to sound consoling, but came out sounding like a garbled mess of made up words, cut off by a complaint when Ray murdered him in the game once again. Said murderer just laughed and then shrugged his shoulders, not even taking his eyes of the screen as he replied.  
"Just, like… fucking ask her out or something," he offered casually, reaching over to grab a handful of chips, "I mean yolo, right?"  
Michael simply groaned and threw a pillow at Ray, smacking him in the side of the face.  
"You guys are no help at all."  
———  
It was Monday and Michael was late for work; an event not so rarely seen. It was his latest shift all week, starting promptly at 11:30 and he was always fucking late. He skipped breakfast (shit… 12: 05… make that lunch) as he rushed out the door, despite a small protest from his stomach, and tripped three times running down the stairs, a fact he would never admit. He rushed in to work late earning a glare from Geoff over the counter and a shrug from Kara, their newest employee, as he threw on his apron. He groaned as he made his way behind the counter yelling something about how “HE WENT TO PUBLIC SCHOOL” and he heard an all-too-familiar chuckle coming from nearby. He looked over only to see Lindsay sitting by herself at a table. It took all of his strength not to smile as he got to work.  
Ray’s words were buzzing in his head all day as he worked through his orders. ‘ask her out or something’. It wasn’t that fucking simple, asshole. He couldn’t just ‘fucking ask her out. That would be stupid because… well, because… And in the middle of making some young businessman a large latte, Michael realized that there was really no tangible reasons not to. I mean, if she said yes, thats fan-fucking-tastic, and if she said no, well, its her loss, she’s the one missing out on this sexy ass guy over here.  
By the time Michael’s break rolled around, he had the whole scene planned out, and it was going to go perfectly. Lindsay was still there and typing away at her laptop as he threw off his apron, yelling to Geoff that he was taking a break and hopped over the counter. But as he made his way over to the girl in the oversized hoodie, sitting by herself, sipping a hot chocolate, he felt his resolve waver. Shit, maybe this wan’t a good idea. By the time he reached her table, he was feeling significantly less than confident. When she looked up at him, however, he still managed a cool smile.  
"This seat taken?" he asked, nodding to the empty chair across from her.  
She smiled back brightly and responded in the negative, waving him to sit down. Michael took a deep breath and opened his mouth, ready to ask her, but his tongue got stuck and he couldn’t do it. This was so unlike him; to be struck so completely by some girl. He’d never had trouble around girls before, so why was this any different. He tried to make himself ask, but his mind created a different question for him to voice.  
"What are you always writing about?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, like he totally didn’t almost ask her out right there.  
She looked surprised at the question but then laughed slightly before responding.  
"I’m an author," was her short reply before she elaborated, "I’m working on a book and I come here for inspiration a lot."  
Michael wrinkled his nose up slightly at the statement. Concentration, he understood, but inspiration?  
"What is there to inspire you here?" he asked, a bit more incredulously than was needed.  
Lindsay laughed at his expression but it seemed more like a laugh of someone in on some sort of inside joke. A sort of dramatic irony, you could say, as she smiled at him a bit too brightly.  
"You" she responded, grinning, a slight blush dusting her cheeks in a way Michael hadn’t seen before.  
"Me!?" the boy responded with a mixture of surprise and confusion, jamming a finger into his chest and eating another laugh from the other occupant of the table.  
"Yes you!" she responded, jokingly putting emphases on the second word, "i dunno, theres something about you and your dorky hot-headedness that makes me wanna write about you… just fucking wax lyrical or something."  
Michael sat there for a second looking at the girl with a mixture of thoughts and feeling which he couldn’t pinpoint. She looked right back at him, an eyebrow raised, meeting his gaze evenly. Then, he smiled, his previously-lost self-confidence returned.  
"You should let me read it sometime," he grinned and leaned over the table smoothly, nodding toward her laptop, "your novel."  
"Is that a request?" she responded with a questioning smile.  
"It’s a promise," he stated surely, "Say… Tomorrow, 6 o’ clock? You can tell me about it over dinner."  
A surprised expression appeared on her features, soon replaced by an excited one and Michael felt everything from the past few days slide into place.  
"I’d love to"


End file.
